


‘till I’m Yours

by Cinnamaldeide



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, BloodAndBreath, HannibalHallow, Hannictober, M/M, Not Beta Read, Post-Season/Series 03, Werewolf!Francis, Werewolf!Hannibal, Werewolf!Will, Werewolves, thepumpkinispeople
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-21 07:26:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12452514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamaldeide/pseuds/Cinnamaldeide
Summary: Sinking his sharp canines in its smooth skin, Will savoured its sweet, ripe flesh, slowly crewing on its meaty consistence while Hannibal graciously entertained their blessedly educated, trusted local grocer with his curously accented Arabic.





	‘till I’m Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Too late for @the-winnowing-wind’s [#Hannictober](http://the-winnowing-wind.tumblr.com/post/165693825229/) and too soon for @idontfindyouthatinteresting and @hanni-bunny-lecter’s [#HannibalHallow](http://idontfindyouthatinteresting.co.uk/post/165691281915/), just in time for @hannibalcreative’s [#ThePumpkinIsPeople](http://hannibalcreative.tumblr.com/post/165980259579/) and at the very last day of @hannigramfanfic’s [#BloodAndBreath](https://hannigramfanfic.tumblr.com/post/165766841485/), Happy Sp◉◉ky Halloween

Sinking his sharp canines in its smooth skin, Will savoured its sweet, ripe flesh, slowly crewing on its meaty consistence while Hannibal graciously entertained their blessedly educated, trusted local grocer with his curiously accented Arabic; fruit vendors were prone to disappearance in their neighbourhood, after selling them rotten products or offering impolite services.

This one in particular was provided with a discreet sense of humour, besides setting the higher prices on the marketplace; “ _Please don’t squeeze me ‘till I’m yours_ ,” Will read loud enough to be heard above the surrounding crowds. “I should have wrapped a matching sign around my neck, back in the days when I deluded myself into thinking that you were human.”

Pouring trickles of peach juice escaped his otherwise dry lips, caught in his perpetual stubble during their languid way to his strong jaw, before Will would wipe it clean with the similarly hirsute back of his hand; Hannibal abhorred the inelegant gesture, much more than the totally unpredictable and exponential hair growth that followed his becoming.

“Experience shall render you wiser,” he commented, licking an extremity of his own handkerchief to pass its wet fabric on his soiled chin, “although I fear not even immortality would improve your manners.”

“My manners are just fine,” Will retorted. Wading through colourful carpets and strongly scented spices, which inebriated their exacerbated senses and frequently disorientated Will, Hannibal moved towards an obscure, pleasantly hidden alley, where the blazing sun wouldn’t reach them; only locals and thieves knew of its existence. Often the two overlapped. “At least I keep my hands to myself, unlike someone _else_. Have you always been so touchy?”

“Becoming certainly encouraged my tactile inclinations, as is often the case, but I clearly remember experiencing the world through precise hands and attentive touches also in my previous, mortal life,” Hannibal conversationally proceeded, sliding his possessive, territorial palm towards his waist; “When I came to know you, I could hardly help myself.”

“You don’t say,” Will mocked his immodesty; “whenever I presented myself bloody-handed at your door, you were all over me, spouting poetry about transcendent natures and divine punishments; not to mention the starving glances you sent me while the lunar eclipse was approaching,” Will teased with boldness, before adding with a touch of self-loath, “I should have known better.”

Weighting up his mostly clean peach pit with sticky fingers, Will wondered whether throwing it in the biodegradable waste, with their humid garbage, or instead laying it with the rest of otherwise sourced bones; “I still can’t believe I escaped a werewolf dragon in a night of full moon, only to get tricked into becoming your mate right after.”

Studying the unaware humans pass them by like a flood in the suffocating mugginess of the busy street below their secluded location, Will dared invade Hannibal’s personal space to glimpse at his mirroring sharp fangs, as Hannibal grimaced at his unflattering description of their uncommon courtship. Holding his insufferable, fond gaze, Will felt the impulsive and delectable desire to excitedly wag his concealed tail. “Dear Will, have you ever been mine?”

Stealing a brief kiss from his unfairly moist lips, and a surprised gasp, since his hands found and shamelessly squeezed his plump, firm buttocks, Will filled his own sensitive nostrils with his familiar scent, assuming he’d be covered with its crisp notes in a matter of time, “Only when you needed a fool around.”

**Author's Note:**

> I got inspired by [this photo](http://her-hair-is-always-a-mess.tumblr.com/post/96906634219/) on Tumblr; in Chinese mythology, peaches are associated with immortal entities. That, and I miss them during Fall.


End file.
